the least idea who he is.
(Aloud.)
I was going about in the
performance of my duty with Piotr Ivanovich Dobchinsky here—he's a
landed proprietor here—and we came to the inn to see whether the guests
are properly accommodated—because I'm not like other governors, who
don't care about anything. No, apart from my duty, out of pure Christian
philanthropy, I wish every mortal to be decently treated. And as if
to reward me for my pains, chance has afforded me this pleasant
acquaintance.
KHLESTAKOV. I, too, am delighted. Without your aid, I confess, I should
have had to stay here a long time. I didn't know how in the world to pay
my bill.
GOVERNOR
(aside)
. Oh, yes, fib on.—Didn't know how to pay his bill! May
I ask where your Honor is going?
KHLESTAKOV. I'm going to my own village in the Government of Saratov.
GOVERNOR
(aside, with an ironical expression on his face)
. The
Government of Saratov! H'm, h'm! And doesn't even blush! One must be
on the qui vive with this fellow.
(Aloud.)
You have undertaken a great
task. They say travelling is disagreeable because of the delay in
getting horses but, on the other hand, it is a diversion. You are
travelling for your own amusement, I suppose?
KHLESTAKOV. No, my father wants me. He's angry because so far I haven't
made headway in the St. Petersburg service. He thinks they stick the
Vladimir in your buttonhole the minute you get there. I'd like him to
knock about in the government offices for a while.
GOVERNOR
(aside)
. How he fabricates! Dragging in his old father, too.
(Aloud.)
And may I ask whether you are going there to stay for long?
KHLESTAKOV. I really don't know. You see, my father is stubborn and
stupid—an old dotard as hard as a block of wood. I'll tell him straight
out, "Do what you will, I can't live away from St. Petersburg." Really,
why should I waste my life among peasants? Our times make different
demands on us. My soul craves enlightenment.
GOVERNOR
(aside)
. He can spin yarns all right. Lie after lie and never
trips. And such an ugly insignificant-looking creature, too. Why, it
seems to me I could crush him with my finger nails. But wait, I'll make
you talk. I'll make you tell me things.
(Aloud.)
You were quite right
in your observation, that one can do nothing in a dreary out-of-the-way
place. Take this town, for instance. You lie awake nights, you work hard
for your country, you don't spare yourself, and the reward? You don't
know when it's coming.
(He looks round the room.)
This room seems rather
damp.
KHLESTAKOV. Yes, it's a dirty room. And the bugs! I've never experienced
anything like them. They bite like dogs.
GOVERNOR. You don't say! An illustrious guest like you to be subjected
to such annoyance at the hands of—whom? Of vile bugs which should never
have been born. And I dare say, it's dark here, too.
KHLESTAKOV. Yes, very gloomy. The landlord has introduced the custom of
not providing candles. Sometimes I want to do something—read a bit, or,
if the fancy strikes me, write something.—I can't. It's a dark room,
yes, very dark.
GOVERNOR. I wonder if I might be bold enough to ask you—but, no, I'm
unworthy.
KHLESTAKOV. What is it?
GOVERNOR. No, no, I'm unworthy. I'm unworthy.
KHLESTAKOV. But what is it?
GOVERNOR. If I might be bold enough—I have a fine room for you at
home, light and cosy. But no, I feel it is too great an honor. Don't
be offended. Upon my word, I made the offer out of the simplicity of my
heart.
KHLESTAKOV. On the contrary, I accept your invitation with pleasure.
I should feel much more comfortable in a private house than in this
disreputable tavern.
GOVERNOR. I'm only too delighted. How glad my wife will be. It's my
character, you know. I've always been hospitable from my very childhood,
especially when my guest is a distinguished person. Don't think I say
this out of flattery. No, I haven't that vice. I only speak from the
fullness of my heart.
KHLESTAKOV. I'm greatly obliged to you. I myself hate